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SOTA c07s02
Text Late that night found the dining hall filled by ponies of every shape and size, all sitting around one enormous black table. Scrivener Blooms, Luna, and Twilight Sparkle were all smiling, although even their most distant friends could see they were worried about something... but the three were putting on a strong front, and not letting whatever concerns poisoned their minds ruin this time they had to share with friends and family. Celestia seemed a little worried herself, but was striving to take after her family's example... and Sleipnir's endless pestering of her seemed to be helping distract her from her own thoughts. Cowlick kept jumping every time a Nightmare appeared out of thin air to refill the dishes of food on the table, while Avalon and Aphrodisia were apparently having an eating contest as Antares stared at them disbelievingly and Meadowlark only paged curiously through the book she had been given. Near her brother, Scarlet Sage was holding the hoof of another mare seated comfortably beside her: an earth pony with a bright yellow coat and a vibrant red mane, her orange eyes happy and pleasant and a bandanna keeping her crimson locks tied back. Apple Bloom, Scarlet Sage's partner, and a pony who was like a daughter to Luna and Scrivener. She was currently arguing with Cowlick about something, before the engineer winced when a Nightmare appeared right beside her to lean past and pick up an empty bowl, then simply vanish from sight again. And then the engineer glared when Apple Bloom laughed, saying flatly: “You shut up, or I'll demote your flank.” “You remind me of Scoot. She'd always work so hard to never admit how scared she was of anything, and ended up just making herself even more afraid of whatever was bothering her.” Apple Bloom remarked, then she smiled amusedly and glanced over at Scarlet Sage, giving her hoof a light squeeze. “She and Sweetie wanted to know if we could get together sometime soon, by the way. I think they miss the old days.” “That'd be fun.” Scarlet Sage smiled back, then she shook her head and glanced down the table, before frowning a little and asking Antares awkwardly: “Uh... does Avalon know what she's eating?” “What?” Antares looked up, then winced at the fact both Avalon and Aphrodisia were now stuffing dumplings into their face, the glossy-black unicorn saying hurriedly: “Ava, wait, those aren't pastries, they're meat!” Avalon froze with a dumpling half-raised to her mouth, at least three mostly-chewed ones stuffed into her mouth, and she slowly looked towards Antares as the stallion winced and Aphrodisia paused and swallowed her own food before saying sheepishly: “Whoops. Sorry, I forgot that normal ponies don't eat meat or anything. But it's still really good, right?” Avalon slowly turned a multitude of sickly colors, then sprung away from the table: all she managed to do was hurry into a corner before vomiting loudly, however, and Rainbow Dash winced and hurried out of his seat as Applejack sighed and glanced awkwardly down the table. “Uh, say, Twilight, uh... do you have anything for sick ponies?” “Selene, a pony requires medicine!” Luna called loudly as her horn glowed faintly... and a moment later, the strange, ivory Nephilim appeared out of thin air with a calm smile, gazing affectionately towards Luna even though there was a distinct surliness in the eyes of the sapphire mare. “Good. Please attend to poor Avalon and clean up the mess.” “Yes, Mother.” Selene said softly, and Celestia sighed and looked pointedly at Luna as a few others at the table shifted in surprise: the Nephilim was the Overseer, after all, in charge of all of Subterra. But Luna only looked grouchily back at Celestia as Selene went about her business with the same calm, unchanging expression. “We used to eat until we vomited in the old days. 'Twas fun, really.” Sleipnir remarked, and then he winced when Pinkamena punched him in the side, rubbing awkwardly at the offended area. “What? I do not do it anymore, do I?” “Only because I think a fatass like you could devour our entire store and still be hungry afterwards.” Pinkamena muttered, and then she glanced down the table and added mildly: “And hey, kiddo, take it easy there. You don't want to be too much like your Daddy, do you?” Aphrodisia only smiled brightly in return, and conversation went back to normal as Rainbow Dash glanced at Applejack, who nodded and quickly excused herself as the blue stallion hefted his ill-looking daughter onto his back. Selene lingered for only long enough to dissolve the large puddle of puke in the corner with a flick of her horn before she followed after them. Big Mac shook his head with a small smile, and beside him, a sky-blue Pegasus glanced curiously up, reaching up to run a hoof through his darker, unkempt navy mane. “Poor kid. We were supposed to go flying later with her father, too, run through a few practices.” “I'm sure she'll be just fine in a little while.” Big Mac said with a smile, reaching up and squeezing the stallion's shoulder, and then he paused before glancing curiously over at Cowlick when she snorted in amusement. “Pretty sure she ate enough meat to kill ten ponies, but I'm also pretty sure Avalon there ain't gonna lay around and cry about it too long. Don't worry, flyboy, you'll get your flight time with Dash's daughter. Although I think it's really Dash you're all googly-eyes over.” Cowlick remarked, and then she paused and glanced mildly over at Big Mac. “Then again, pretty sure if I got my nasty little hooves on a stud like Mac, I'd drag him off to the bedroom and wouldn't ever let him leave.” Big Mac slowly picked up his cup of water and sipped from it awkwardly, and then Cowlick rubbed at her face and looked down the table towards Spike and Rarity, adding meditatively: “Wonder what it must be like with a dragon, though. Then again, maybe I should ask Luna or Celestia if I really want to know the whole story.” “What's what like, Cowlick?” Ross asked curiously, and the engineer mare smiled amusedly over at him before reaching up and stroking his mane back tenderly. “Oh, you know. Dirty stuff that don't interest you none. But don't worry, you're my favorite, handsome. You're the pony for me. I just like to dream.” Cowlick looked meditatively around the table, rubbing a hoof absently down her own breast. “Although some days I feel like slipping a little something in your coffee.” “I don't drink coffee, though. Not usually at least, nope.” Ross replied curiously, and Cowlick smiled as she gave him an amused look, warmth in her eyes. “Metaphor, handsome. You remember that, right?” She gazed at him gently, then paused before turning a glare towards another pony seated at the table, snapping: “Stop your damn staring at me or I'll throttle you with that fancy tie of yours.” Barry hurriedly cleared his throat and dropped his head, wincing and staring down at his soup before shivering and pushing the stew away. He hesitated, then awkwardly glanced over towards Scrivener, and the charcoal stallion sighed tiredly as he said moodily: “This is your own fault for showing up here.” “I... I was just trying to let you know the score, champ! And besides, I mean... okay, yes, okay, it's very nice to be here and all and your friends are wonderful ponies, wonderful...” He halted, looking lamely back and forth down the table, eyes dancing nervously over Nirvana, Spike, the three young half-Phooka, and the Nightmares that were appearing more frequently now as more ponies excused themselves. “Uh... people. You can't blame me for being a little weirded out though. I mean, I'm sitting beside a former Wonderbolt, which is cool as hell, but that demon also tried to eat me.” Sleipnir, on the other side of the table, automatically looked at Pinkamena, and his wife grumbled and punched him in the foreleg, saying sourly: “It wasn't me, asshole. Besides, look at him, he's all wrapper and no filling.” Barry looked ridiculously hurt by this comment, and Scrivener slapped his forehead with a hoof before Luna interjected kindly: “Well, Barry, if it is of any consequence Hevatica has very discerning tastes. I am sure she merely mistook thou for a tasty treat, with all the... tawdry bundling thou art done up in, 'tis all.” “Tawdry... hey! This suit cost me a fortune!” Barry grabbed at his clothing in vexation, blushing slightly as Twilight Sparkle sighed quietly and Celestia gave Luna a pleading look. “You know what? I've been trying to hold back from this, champ, because... because we laugh and have fun a lot, but... you and your friends, you and... her and... you... you're really not... nice.” Barry stumbled to a halt, and the miniscule amount of courage he had managed to summon up vanished when Scrivener simply looked at him blankly, the smaller, lanky earth pony half-hiding and squeaking: “Don't fire me or feed me to demons!” “'Tis cute, does thy pet do other tricks as well?” Sleipnir looked up curiously at Scrivener, and the charcoal stallion only sighed tiredly as he looked moodily at Barry. “I've tried teaching him how to shut up, but that doesn't exactly seem to be going very well.” Scrivener remarked dryly, and then he grumbled a little and shook his head, adding finally: “Barry, look. We're mean, because... we're... mean.” Luna and Twilight both looked flatly at Scrivener, and the dark-coated stallion shrugged and looked lamely around the table before Pinkamena rolled her eyes and spoke up suddenly: “Look, douchebag, you're in our house now, and our rules are simple. You be yourself and say what the hell you want. Sure, we're not walking around, sharing our feelings with each other and being all nice. But we're honest, and we take care of each other, and we don't mince our words. Just because I tell Scrivener here he's a jackass doesn't mean I like him any less. He is a jackass.” “I am a jackass.” Scrivener agreed, and then he smiled over at the demon, but she only growled in response to him before the stallion looked at Barry as he glanced up meekly. “What Pinkamena's saying is trust in our actions, not our words. Look, once Luna and I have had our coffee after our meal and everything, I'll walk you out of Subterra. That way you can avoid upsetting any other demons. Some of the entrances from Canterlot might be public now, but that doesn't mean the demons like ponies wandering down into their city all that much.” “God you're weird. Talking about it like it's the ponies' fault above and... no, no, forget I said anything.” Barry hid behind the table again when Pinkamena glared at him, even as Sleipnir reached up and put a soothing hoof on her shoulder. Then the agent winced as he looked back and forth, adding lamely: “And hey, Soarin' here might be a demon in the air but... he's not really... a demon, right?” “No, but... you know. They didn't trust me at first but... I spent plenty of time here working on and off with Starlit Knights and hanging around and... they get used to you.” Soarin' said lamely, rubbing the back of his head and giving a small smile. Then he cleared his throat a bit, glancing over at Big Mac. “Just took patience, right? Although I was pretty freaked out myself at first, wasn't I?” Big Mac only smiled and nodded in return, and Barry mumbled a little before he shrank down a bit in his seat. Gradually, everyone else left, until Barry was sitting with Celestia, Luna, Scrivener and Twilight Sparkle. The agent had calmed down a little, although he was now nervously playing with a meat dumpling and tossing anxious looks at the Nightmares and other demons cleaning up the table. Scrivener was doing his best to ignore his agent, however, as he and Twilight argued over some old language theory and Luna sat back, looking almost... content, in spite of everything. Celestia had a cup of tea, sipping at it and listening with interest to the conversation before she glanced upwards with surprise at the figure that sauntered calmly in through the archway. Scrivener and Twilight fell silent as well as Luna looked up with a slight grin, her eyes gleaming with interest... but also faint apprehension, as she asked mildly: “And what brings thou, of all the miserable creatures in this universe, to my pleasant little abode?” “Just because in your mind all of Subterra belongs to you, Brynhild, that doesn't make it true.” retorted the unicorn that entered the room... or at least, Barry thought it was a unicorn, until his mind processed the fact that the beetroot-colored stallion was striding calmly along on his rear legs, and his upper limbs ended in not hooves, but black, smooth hands. The unicorn-like creature had a wavy golden mane and matching tail, and his eyes were ivory, as was the horn standing up from his skull: and the only thing that Barry could honestly relate to in terms of this creature was the fact that it was wearing a very nice, green-colored dress suit and perfectly-knotted tie. “Kvasir, do not be an idiot. Anything that I desire to be mine becomes mine instantly, there is no greater truth than this.” Luna replied pompously, sniffing loudly as she sat back in her seat, then she sighed and glowered over at Barry, who was mouthing wordlessly as Kvasir approached them moodily. “You, idiot. If there is one creature thou does not need fear it is this one. Oh, aye, he may be Valhalla's new master, but god or not 'tis still nothing more threatening than a homunculus.” “Yes, Brynhild, oh please, by all means tell every little mortal exactly who and what I am.” Kvasir said distastefully, stopping on the other side of the table and giving a moody look towards Barry, who shrank a bit and offered an awkward grin before the beetroot unicorn muttered: “I suppose it doesn't matter anyway. What precisely are you, mortal?” “Barry, Barry Barter, at your service, sir, pleasure to meet you, I'm the literary agent for the champ, Scrivener Blooms!” Barry seemed to fall back on some kind of autopilot, giving a grin and rambling away as he stretched a hoof across the table, and Kvasir leaned back slightly and held a hand up in front of himself in what was almost a defensive gesture. There was an awkward silence, and then Barry slumped a bit back into his seat before Celestia said gently: “It's important for a leader to always go an extra step for his people, Kvasir... to be willing to meet even the lowest and meanest of his subjects as an equal, to demonstrate his dedication to treating all with equality... even when they don't deserve it.” “Your lesson for today has been noted, Valkyrie Freya.” Kvasir said dourly, and Barry looked dumbly back and forth before muttering and crossing his forelegs, slumping back in his seat. “But these mortals are not my subjects. I am only an administrator of Valhalla, nothing more... and besides, if I didn't care, I wouldn't be here right now. We have an... abnormality.” Luna straightened a little at this, automatically looking down the table... but of course, Antares was long gone. She hoped that he was off with Meadowlark, celebrating the start of their courtship... even if he hadn't mentioned it yet, Luna had seen the way the two were closer, could tell that there was something blossoming between them... that the Pegasus had helped her son find closure, and move on. And right now, it was better that he remained distracted with good things, as she asked quietly: “Thou has a job for myself and my husband?” “They are not your soldiers, Kvasir.” Celestia said quietly, but there was a strange edge to her voice as she put down her teacup, her amethyst eyes almost glowing as they locked on Kvasir's strange ivory irises when they slid towards her. “If something was wrong in this world, I would have already known about it. You can't expect them to go off into another plane again, to fix some other world's problems.” “Celestia...” Luna's tone was soft, but almost chastising as she turned her eyes towards her sibling, who gave the faintest blush as she dropped her gaze away from Kvasir. For a moment, there was only silence, and then Luna simply reached over and squeezed her sister's shoulder before turning her eyes back to Kvasir. He studied them calmly, then he shook his head and said softly: “Valhalla is strong, but I have no one I trust or respect as much I have come to trust and respect yourself and Brynhild and her... family.” His eyes flicked from Scrivener to Twilight, and then he shook his head, continuing quietly: “And you would be just as angry, Freya, if I went to Sleipnir instead. Besides, hear me out first. As I said, there is an abnormality, but I did not say a 'danger,' per se.” Celestia nodded hesitantly, and the others looked up as Barry looked on nervously but curiously: for now, however, Kvasir treated the mortal as if he didn't exist, as the homunculus god explained calmly: “As you recall, nine anchors were laid in nine different layers of reality, to protect the core world. After your... misadventure while laying the first anchor, Odin saw fit to have each anchor modified slightly, so that it would send up a signal if it was tampered with.” “Oh, aye, I remember. I remember that well.” Luna said with relish, looking up and grinning slightly as she rubbed thoughtfully at the underside of her jaw. “Corvette, was that not the name of the mercenary who tampered with us, Scrivener Blooms?” “Bounty hunter, you mean. Well. Slave trader. Actually, let's just refer to him as a douchebag and call it a day.” Scrivener said mildly, and Luna nodded thoughtfully a few times in agreement before the stallion turned his eyes to Kvasir, asking curiously: “Was it one of the anchors we laid, or one of the other four?” “I have an idea, ponies. Why don't you let me talk, and maybe then you'll learn what's going on?” Kvasir asked crankily, and Luna huffed and grumbled and Scrivener sat back with a grunt. Twilight only smiled lamely when the beetroot unicorn looked back and forth, then rolled his eyes and shook his head slowly. “I don't know why Odin had to design his creatures to be so... so meddlesome.” “Thou art meddlesome.” Luna grumbled, and then she fidgeted before finally quieting when Twilight Sparkle reached out and gently touched her shoulder, the sapphire mare grumbling to herself and motioning for Kvasir to go ahead with one hoof. The homunculus looked at them grouchily, then he leaned forwards over the table, resting his black hands against the wooden surface and saying moodily: “Since you were so interested... it is not a layer of reality that you have visited before, no. I believe Sleipnir placed the anchor in this one. I believe it is an inner layer... not prime, though.” Luna smiled wryly, looking up at the beetroot unicorn and remarking mildly: “Thou knows that... 'tis a dangerous game thou art playing, labeling and sorting out all the layers that Odin created. They were never meant to be so organized and labeled, after all... merely ninety-nine different realities, to vex any interloper and intruder seeking to reach the center layer.” “Yes, but this is important.” Kvasir replied quietly, shaking his head and hesitating before continuing slowly: “As you know, Brynhild, the core reality is shielded by the nine anchors, hidden across nine different planes of reality. These layers vary from prime, the closest to the core reality, to omega, the furthest and most different... and often the most hostile. But every layer is molded from the same base.” Luna looked impatient at the history lesson, before frowning when Kvasir said quietly: “But the surge we detected in Valhalla from the anchor prompted me to take a look at this inner layer, to see what could have caused it... and there is something... unnatural in the desert. Something that is blocking any effort to see inside it... all it appears to be is a blot of darkness. But it reeks of...” Slowly, Kvasir looked over at Scrivener Blooms, and the charcoal stallion shivered a bit, shaking his head slowly and grasping at his skull as he felt something shift strangely inside him. And then he looked up, forcing himself to ask: “Valthrudnir?” He almost whispered the word, as if afraid speaking his name would wake up the Jötnar hiding inside his mind, and Kvasir hesitated before nodding slowly and murmuring: “I expect that Decretum may be involved somehow, but... I don't know how. Clockwork World itself is quarantined, after all, and Freya has been generous enough to inform me of any and all movements of Clockwork Ponies left on this world...” “And there's been little activity over these last few years. The Strange Ones are holding three in imprisonment, and there's another locked in the dungeons of Canterlot... but I almost feel pity for them. It feels like they're simply waiting to die.” Celestia said quietly, shaking her head slowly. “The last event we had regarding any of Decretum's forces was a skirmish with several Dullahan the Royal Guard flushed out of hiding.” Kvasir nodded, grimacing a little. “And if anything, that only has me more concerned about this situation. If these toys of Valthrudnir showed some signs of sentience, of fight, then I'd at least have an idea of what we were dealing with... but instead, with how they seem to be shutting down, but something sinister that all the same reeks of his enterprises stretching its influence out over another layer, perhaps purposefully beginning to tamper with the anchor laid there...” “Then we have no choice but to go.” Luna said firmly, looking up... and then she hesitated before smiling slightly and looking over her shoulder, asking as Celestia began to open her mouth: “And what about thou, big sister? Will thou come to aid myself, Scrivy, Twilight... and perhaps Antares?” Celestia looked surprised at this... but then, slowly, she closed her mouth, and a strange frown crested her face before she lowered her head slightly. She breathed slowly in and out as Kvasir turned a contemplative look to the Valkyrie... and then Celestia smiled slowly, looking up and saying softly: “Well, little sister, when you put it like that... suddenly I feel much less concerned, and almost... excited.” Scrivener smiled despite himself as Luna grinned widely, her eyes gleaming: and even though she felt worried and anxious, she also felt that same eagerness, and in a strange way, almost glad. Glad to be back where she felt she belonged, glad to be given a chance to chase down whatever remnants of Valthrudnir's machinations remained... glad she was here to be able to do so. And glad that she would have her family beside her, supporting her, as a faint hope whispered up through her soul, too: that maybe if they plunged headlong once more into fighting whatever forces of darkness had risen up again, they might stumble on a way to destroy the Jötnar lurking in Scrivener's mind as well. Twilight Sparkle smiled faintly as she looked up, feeling excitement emanating from Luna and Celestia, and in a quieter way, from Scrivener Blooms as well. Except she understood it now, more than she wanted to... and while she rationalized it as a gladness she could protect her friends and family, told herself again and again that violence was only a method of last resort, something else inside her was whispering... making her feel... A hoof reached up, rubbing silently over the front of her sweater and the stitching beneath this, and Scrivener looked over at her with surprise... but before he could speak, Barry once more reminded the room that he existed by asking hopefully: “So can we get a book deal out of this, champ?” Kvasir turned a moody look on Barry, and the literary agent shrank hurriedly behind the table as Luna snorted laughter and Scrivener sighed, rubbing slowly at his forehead as he wondered morbidly what was worse: the thought of once more crossing layers and fighting monsters, or Barry and Ersatz and all the fun of being 'successful.' Top ↑